


T'Challa Breaks the Internet

by KrazyKeke



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Black Character(s), Black Panther (2018) Spoilers, Black!Reader - Freeform, F/M, Fictional characters find out about Tumblr and Archive of our Own, Gen, Humor, I've seen this happen a few times in different fandoms and I wanted to try it, This isn't meant to be taken seriously, i give credit where credit is due, its all in good humor, seriously don't take this seriously, some fanfics and fan artists will be name dropped, things will be quirky and weird, what would T'Challa do if he found out about what we write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-22 13:51:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13765500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrazyKeke/pseuds/KrazyKeke
Summary: Have you ever wondered what our Lord and savior, the Black Panther, King of Wakanda, T'Challa, would do, how would he react if he found out about the stories we write or the art we make? Now's your chance!





	1. Fanart and T'Chucky (WinterPanther)

The sound of your stifled chuckles should have first clued him in. 

To be fair to himself, though, he  _ was  _ immersed in paperwork and had only glanced up briefly to see what amused you so. You are sitting cross legged in a chair across the room, fist propped underneath your chin and your right hand carefully balancing a tablet in your hold so that it wouldn’t fall, eyes fastened to the screen. 

“What is so funny?”

Shuri’s ‘innocent’ expression all but screams of mischief, her lips pulled down at the corners as she tried to maintain a serious appearance, which is suspicious in and of itself. “Nothing.” 

Then it’s definitely something.

Weary but feeling that the paperwork needed to be done today, soon, he glanced back down at his work. Just as he did so, however, the duo were giggling again and whispering now too. T’Challa spent fifteen minutes re-reading the same sentence over and over again before he couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer. 

“I want to laugh as well.” he complained. “Tell me!”

T’Challa was not whining, he really isn’t. Kings did not whine. 

Looking up from the tablet, you snorted. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you.” 

“No! He won’t see the funny side, Y/N!” Shuri tried to snatch the tablet away but you leaned out of reaching distance. 

Face screwing up into a frown, he scoffed at his sister. Sucking on his teeth, he cut his eyes at her and buffed his nails on his silk black shirt. “What are you talking about? I have a sense of humor!”

Shuri muttered something distinctly unflattering underneath her breath and you lightly nudged her, wordlessly telling her to stop. “Right, of course…” Even her words are unenthusiastic. 

T’Challa lets her tone roll off his shoulders because you’re soon half sitting in his lap, one arm thrown behind the back of the chair, and offering the tablet. Before the query could pass his lips, wondering what he is to be looking at exactly, you’ve tapped the screen so that it lights up and he’s gazing at a very detailed picture of...himself? In the Black Panther suit.

“Fanart.” Your voice stated overhead. “You became very popular after the...debacle with Tony Stark and the other Avengers.” 

Zemo had been a crafty adversary, releasing the footage of the airport battle, the Winter Soldier murdering the Starks, and also the two-on-one fight between Barnes, Rogers, and Stark; the Stark heir spent many months secluded from public eye afterwards, not that T’Challa could blame him. Nonetheless, it had fallen squarely on his shoulders to entertain the U.N. and wrangle Thaddeus Ross into a lower position of authority; not an easy feat, especially because the man was slippery as a snake. 

“Mm,” he made a noncommittal noise and clicked on the ‘visit’ button. Google opened a new tab, taking him to the creator’s page on DeviantArt. “This, saifuddindayana, he or she, is very talented.”

“You, you like it?”

He shrugged. “Who doesn’t like being adored by fans?” T’Challa smirked. 

Shuri let out a ‘Ha!’ “Y/N is  _ babying  _ you. Google T’Chucky or WinterPanther.” He hesitated and she pounced on it. “Are you scared?”

“I am not scared!”

“T’Challa, you really shouldn’t--”

He Googled the terms and immediately wished he could rewind time. 

“Is that Sgt. Barnes and I?” The detail of the art is intricate, beautiful and obscene. T’Challa felt his skin become heated with embarrassment when he saw several pictures of a...sexual nature. He was grateful that his skin tone is dark enough to hide the blush. “Who is, why are they,” his eyes darted around the room, not focusing on any one thing. “We tried to kill each other!”

“Apparently after attempted murder, the only thing is up. Romantic walks at night and candle lit dinners.” You tease. T’Challa’s horrified expression tickles your funny bone and you can’t help but laugh, even as you leaned forward to kiss his brow. 

“Most cases, the fanfic authors just jump straight to the sex.” Shuri added, ruining the touching moment.

Fan...fiction? “People are writing  **_stories_ ** ?!”

You sighed. “Shuri…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sharing is caring. If you want to throw your favorite fanfic (or the worst) into the ring to be discussed, let me know in a review! I'll be doing my own research and going into different tags/pairings.


	2. Fanart & T'Chucky(WinterPanther) cont.

It took several minutes, with some pleading, bargaining and placating kisses, before T’Challa calmed down. His eyes flicker to yours, to the wall, to Shuri, who’s quietly snickering at more fanart or fanfics, and then back to you. 

“I don’t understand.”

“Personally, I don’t understand why anyone ships Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter together,” his brow furrowed in confusion, unsure what you meant about ‘ships’, but also wondering what a children’s series had to do with anything. “But the human mind does like the illicit and forbidden. What’s more steamy and exciting than a romance between the fierce Winter Soldier and the enigmatic Black Panther?”

“My relationship with you.” T’Challa stated simply. 

“See!” Pointing her finger at her brother in an ‘Aha!’ manner, she glanced at you. “I told you that he wouldn’t get the funny side.” 

“He’s new to this. Give him a chance.” Making a ‘calm down’ motion, you turn your attention back to your lover because that was certainly an ‘Awww!’ moment. “And honey, I know you love me. I love you too, but--”

“No. No, ‘but’. I know that look in your eye, Y/N, and you will not convince me to change my mind.” He crossed his arms and glanced away. That was that, subject closed.

Except that it wasn’t.

“I promise that if you don’t like one fanfic that I read, or at least a chapter, or you don’t laugh at it, we’ll drop this and never speak of it again.” You bargain. He glowered. You raised an eyebrow. He huffed. You smiled and took the tablet back, typing quickly. 

Once you found a fic, something less scandalizing and not porn (which would for sure have him run for the hills), you cleared your throat and when you spoke next, you changed your voice so that it mimicked the traumatized super soldier’s drawl. “‘ Alright, I'll say it. I'm sorry for all the....fighting. I feel bad for hurting you.’”. 

Shuri seemed to have the same idea, as she participated too, becoming something of a narrator, “He felt his hands get clammy and his heart beat to pick up. It was always nerve-racking for him to apologize in such a quiet setting. Thankfully, T'challa sensed this and put his hand over Bucky's. This slowed Bucky's heartbeat but caused butterflies to flutter in his stomach.”

Switching the pitch of your voice so that it’s more soft, understanding, you continue on reading, "it's okay, Bucky. I'm sorry for fighting you at probably every chance I got. I hope we're okay after this." 

Again, Shuri interjected, reading her line. “T'challa gave him a small smile which Bucky returned.”

‘Oh, this is a fun part.’ Lips twitching with amusement, you struggled not to laugh, even as you used your ‘Bucky’ voice again. "‘If I knew you were so cute, I wouldn't have tried anything.’"

Just because you’re in a smarmy mood, you give T’Challa the most outrageous wink and you’re rewarded when he, who’d been so quiet throughout the impromptu ‘play’, snorted, then covered his mouth, as if dismayed he’d been bested by such a cheesy gesture.

Shuri doesn’t even try to stop her laughter, even as she reads the next line. “T'challa starts giggling like a school girl which sets off Bucky's own laughter.”

The real life T’Challa still had his hand covering his mouth so you poked him in a ticklish area, and he flinched, a muffled snort coming from behind his hand, so you poked him again. “You laughed. You  _ laughed _ , I win.” 

Finally, he let his hand down but he was smiling. “I couldn’t NOT laugh at such...I don’t even have the words for it. Clearly this fanfic, what is the title of this story again?”

“‘A Starbucks Afternoon’ by Im__A__Brooklyn__Baby.” You tell him.

“Clearly it’s written by a teenager. Worse, a hipster teenager.” he sniffed. “Let me read this myself, this sounds like a date...” As he took the tablet back from you, he was oblivious to the fact that Shuri and you shared a thumbs up. 

Mission accomplished, bullet dodged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so, so much for the reviews last chapter, all the kudos and bookmarks. You guys are the best ever! Please still though, leave comments for me, I'm a needy child for reviews.  
> Next up, Everett Ross/T'Challa!


	3. Pre-slash/Yaoi, M-Preg & EverPanther (Oh my, oh my!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic edited at: midnight  
> 3/7/2018

It had been a few days since the Incident™. 

Neither Shuri or Y/N had brought up that… _hell site_  again, for which T’Challa was extremely grateful. He could almost forget what he had seen and read. The thought of strangers writing about his fictional relationship with such a broken individual clearly in need of sanctuary and peace of mind…

‘No, I will  **NOT** go down that road.’ 

Thank Bast, he had an excellent poker face and was able to maintain a professional mask with Barnes next he saw him. As it was, he found himself strangely mortified, which Shuri had picked up on and immediately felt the need to send him ridiculous, sneaky, and over the top glances.

Certainly, the former assassin had picked up on their nonverbal byplay but ultimately, he’d stayed silent as he was wont to do, that and stare blankly out in front of him, brooding.

Ever the dark knight archetype. 

Tapping the holoscreen, T’Challa swiped with his index and middle finger, going through meticulous reports that needed his attention, sent by Okoye, then a few that had been sent by his advisors, and lastly, there was an e-mail from Ross and a link from Y/N, eyes narrowing at the final two as he deliberated on which to review first. 

After a few minutes thought, he chose Ross’ email first, and just as he thought, it largely spoke of things that the U.N. wanted to go over with him during the next meeting, but at the very end, cleverly disguised in a query regarding Shuri’s health, the Wakandan king could understand the subtext; spinal injuries were career ending, still, in America. 

He had this man’s gratitude, something that might be of use later in the future. Pressing his two fingers together on his left hand, he closed out of the email and saved it to a separate folder to his account. 

Bursting with curiosity by now, T’Challa used his right hand to pull up the link that Y/N had sent him, only to tense when he read the title and summary of the  ~~thrice damned~~  Archive of our Own fanfic.

 

 

 

> Other Half 
> 
> j_gabrielle 
> 
> Summary: “If you’d please stop trying to bruise my husband’s husband, I’d like to take him to the river for the blessing.” Nakia says, announcing her arrival into the room with the jangle of her bracelets. Narrowing her eyes at him, “Not getting cold feet, are you?”
> 
> “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Everett rolls his eyes.
> 
> Notes: Prequel to my Mpreg fic “There’s Always Something Left to Lose”

A cold sweat broke out across the back of his neck. 

This was bait. It was so obvious, even a child could put together the fact that he was being dared, but T’Challa had never been one to back down from a challenge. Besides, his work was finished and he had no excuse  _not_ to take a look at this fanfic, right?

‘So much for the Incident™ never happening.’ His conscious scoffed at him. Steeling himself, he began to read the story in full. 

[Everett fiddles with the hem of the ceremonial wrap. It’s beautiful. The threads of vibranium woven into the design glow in the sunlight and no matter what anyone might say, he is not in any way nervous, thank you very much.

Clearing his throat, he sits down on the bed, endeavouring to be braver than he feels.

From his window, Everett can hear the sounds of the drums and singing. The door opens and Shuri walks in, considering him for a moment before clucking her tongue at him. “What are you doing? You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”]

T’Challa takes a moment to pause. Getting cold feet is what the Americans like to say to someone before a marriage ceremony, or something else monumental. Perhaps, perhaps he is wrong…?

~~…Please let him be wrong.~~

Taking a deep inhale, he exhaled then skimmed a little, index idly drumming against his palm. 

[“How are you so calm about this?” Everett asks as they turn to leave. Shuri takes up the space at his flank while Nakia holds his hand. “I am marrying your husband.”

“Our husband.” Nakia corrects gently, “I have always been aware of his proclivities and have accepted them. He has never been anything less than who he was with me. And when you saved me in South Korea, you cemented your place with us. Not that you needed to save me. From what I’ve heard, after the Zemo incident, he was already crushing on you. I’m just surprised he didn’t marry us both at the same time.”]

That little seed of hope blossoming in his chest died a sad, pitiful death.  
But like a bystander watching a trainwreck or car crash, he could not stop reading.

[“Oh, he most definitely wanted to! You should have seen him trying to argue for it with Mother.” Shuri chuckles, “My brother was, what do you call it? Mooning over you?”]

Brows furrowing, T’Challa found that he didn’t have any concrete complaints, the story seeming to rely on the readers to understand his, Nakia’s, and Ross’ personality to weave a clear picture. Which was all well and good, except Nakia was dedicated to helping people, to bettering the lives of those who had suffered and needed her protection. 

The title of Queen was not something she wanted or needed. 

So ultimately, the author didn’t understand her at all. 

‘This is fanfiction. Don’t be so critical.’ He tried to scold himself but still, he felt mildly annoyed and faintly amused by how people perceived his attitude. Taking on one lover was enough, to have two and be married to both?

Sounded exhausting. 

To his knowledge, Ross had exchanged a mere handful of words, direct and impersonal, with him, while he made an attempt to murder Barnes, then again when the man was shot protecting Nakia. Ross had touched his shoulder, a far too casual gesture for his comfort, and Okoye nearly took his head off for it. 

Wondering where this j_gabrielle got their information from was producing a headache. Distantly, he wondered if it would be an overreaction to send Okoye and the Dora Milaje after this person? …Shuri would never let him live it down, but Y/N might find it funny.

Shaking his head, he clicked the link embedded in the fic, which led to the secondary fic. 

 

 

 

> There’s Always Something Left to Lose
> 
> j_gabrielle
> 
> Summary: “You should tell him. This is a happy thing. It should be celebrated.”
> 
> POSITIVE
> 
> One word, written in bold. Changing the trajectory of his life.

Pausing, T’Challa bookmarked the page before closing out. Then opened up a new screen and Googled ‘M-preg’. 

Only to regret it instantly

 as the search brought up almost four million hits. There’s artwork, which he forgoes the decision to investigate temporarily, though the first two links catch his interest. One seems to be connected to Archive of our Own, while the other is urbandictionary.

## Mpreg: Short for male pregnancy. Men are sometimes pregnant in slash fiction stories.

The words ‘slash fiction stories’ and 'male pregnancy' seems to taunt him. Dancing over the screen and reverberating in his skull as he puts two plus two together and gets four. Phone buzzing, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his cellular device. He had a text message from Y/N. 

**SHOULD I GET THE PINK OR BLUE BLANKIES?  
;)**

Thumb poised to reply back, T’Challa hesitates only for a brief millisecond, then types.

**DEPENDS. HAVE YOU BEEN A GOOD GIRL?**

**::thinking face emoji::**

And then he sticks his cellphone back in his pocket, deciding to take his time getting back to his quarters despite the insistent buzzing which indicates he’s getting a multitude of text messages. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, T'Challa thinks that he was safe from his meme loving sister, but his boo is just as much of a troll as his sibling is. As always, if you liked this, review, review! Letcha girl know what I can do to make this funnier for you or recommend fics to be on the chopping block. But remember, this is all in good fun <3


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